


high horse heel

by thunderylee



Category: A.B.C.-Z, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Kitayama gets a new chair.





	high horse heel

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (spanking).

It’s not often that Fujigaya wants to top, but then Kitayama bends over on a goddamn high-heeled chair and suddenly Fujigaya feels like an animal in the wild, unable to think about anything other than being balls-deep in that ass, making Kitayama cling to the back part of the shoe as Fujigaya fucks him into it.

“Um,” Miyata says, and Fujigaya looks up guiltily before he realizes that Kitayama’s face is basically in Miyata’s crotch.

Crisis averted, Fujigaya turns his attention back to the ass at hand and stares shamelessly. This is really the only way he likes Kitayama, and not just because the small bane of his existence is facing away from him.

“Taisuke?” Yokoo asks, and dammit, he’s been caught. Naturally this gets everyone’s attention, though the sight of Kitayama glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow and an entirely too amused smirk on his face just makes Fujigaya’s urges worse.

“Do you think they’ll let me keep this chair?” is all Kitayama asks. “It’s kind of comfortable.”

They didn’t, but there’s a similar one online and it’s even leopard print. It takes forever to get delivered, but Fujigaya can wait because Kitayama’s not that appealing when he’s standing upright and giving him knowing looks. Yokoo looks like he wants to step in, but that never does any good and besides, whatever makes them get along.

All it takes is a picture of Kitayama straddling the chair backwards to get Fujigaya showering on his night off, though it takes him until he’s on the train to realize that means someone _else_ took the picture.

“Hey,” Kawai greets him at the door, completely casually like they’re just meeting up to go have drinks, and Fujigaya blinks a second as his mind processes this arrangement.

“Tamamori wouldn’t let Miyata come,” Kitayama greets him by way of explanation, shoving past Kawai to grab Fujigaya by the collar. “Get inside already. You’re letting out all of my heat.”

Fujigaya has a quip on the tip of his tongue about how Kitayama’s not hot at all, but then he’s pulled right into Kitayama’s mouth and he can no longer say that with true conviction. Kitayama’s an aggressive kisser, claiming the attraction of everyone who makes contact with his tongue, and all of their history and rivalry just makes Fujigaya fall victim to it even more.

“How do you two get anything done in your group?” Kawai’s voice sounds from the near distance. “All of this sexual tension isn’t good for productivity, you know.”

If Fujigaya wasn’t otherwise busy, he’d snap at his friend about how they’d be _less_ productive if they had weekly orgies like ABC-Z, but Kitayama is adamant about keeping Fujigaya’s full attention and gropes him point blank. Fujigaya groans and rocks into it, the pair of them manhandling each other across the room to where the high-heeled chair sits right in front of his couch. It’s a dumb place for it, and Fujigaya’s about to tell him so when Kitayama falls backwards onto it and pulls Fujigaya down with him.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Kitayama asks, his breath heaving as he pulls away with a glare. “Get to it already. I have shit to do.”

“The only thing I have to do is _you_ ,” Fujigaya replies. It had sounded much better in his head, but he’s growling enough for Kitayama to shiver and pose absolutely no resistance as Fujigaya grabs him by the shoulders and spins him around, putting him right where he wants him.

“Damn,” says Kawai, echoing Fujigaya’s thoughts exactly. “I totally see the appeal now.”

“Why are you even here?” Fujigaya asks as nicely as he can as he reaches around Kitayama’s waist to unfasten his pants. Topping means he has to do all of the work, especially topping this one, but it’ll be worth it when he’s inside.

“Mitsu thought you might need encouragement,” Kawai answers, and Fujigaya rolls his eyes. “I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make this much effort.”

“My ass is that good,” Kitayama offers, shaking it a little for effect, and Fujigaya’s first impulse is to bring his hand down to the newly exposed flesh. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Fujigaya repeats, a little amazed as he rubs the area he’d just _slapped_. “Did that hurt?”

“Yeah, but…” Kitayama trails off, arching at whatever sensations are still coursing through him from the contact. “Do it again.”

“Gladly,” Fujigaya replies, his hand already tingling before he goes in for a second smack, admiring the pink handprint he leaves behind. “Shit.”

“Hurry up,” Kitayama says, and it’s enough of a whine that Fujigaya jumps to unfasten his own pants, pulling his travel lube and a condom from his pocket before shoving them down.

“Can’t even get out of your clothes,” Kawai chides from the sidelines, and now Kitayama’s rolling his eyes.

“Come here so I can shut you up,” Kitayama snaps, and Fujigaya watches as Kawai steps close enough for Kitayama to grab him by the waist, yanking him close enough to nuzzle his crotch with his nose.

“ _Oh_ ,” Kawai says, and Fujigaya scoffs a bit at the way Kawai falls right into the role. Fingers threaded in Kitayama’s hair, hips rocking into Kitayama’s face before Kitayama even has his pants open. Fujigaya purposely waits until Kitayama opens his mouth to push a finger inside him, a little rougher than he would normally, but that just has Kitayama lunging forward even more.

It’s Kawai who moans, unabashed and loud as he throws his head back and pushes Kitayama’s head down the length of his cock. He always jokes about looking like a horse, but apparently he’s hung like one too if Kitayama’s strained noises are any indication. Ordinarily Fujigaya would attribute those noises to his own efforts to stretch Kitayama open for him, but Kitayama’s pushing back enthusiastically and taking it entirely too easily, though he’s still tight enough for Fujigaya to groan at the way that will feel around his own length.

“Spank him again,” Kawai says, his voice an octave deeper than usual and his eyes barely open as his head lolls up and he looks in Fujigaya’s general direction. Then his eyes roll back into his head at whatever Kitayama does in response to that direction. “Fuck, he really wants you to.”

Fujigaya’s right hand is busy, so he lifts his left hand for a rather weak smack. He doesn’t have much coordination on this side, but that might work out better since he can’t actually stop doing it once he starts. Kitayama’s moans are audible even muffled by Kawai fucking his face, one hand fisting his hair to hold him still, and they only get louder when Fujigaya touches him deep inside and Kitayama grinds pointedly against the seat of the chair.

Kawai’s neck and what Fujigaya can see of his chest are completely flushed, forehead breaking out into a sweat like he’s close when Fujigaya hasn’t even entered Kitayama yet. It’s not because he’s taking his time by any means; Kitayama’s body can be stubborn, especially taking abuse like this and even if Fujigaya wants to kill him sometimes, he doesn’t want to hurt him. So as hard as he is, already sheathed and lubed up, he’s still working in a third finger and alternating his light slaps with gentle rubs of the newly pink flesh.

“Come on, Mitsu,” Fujigaya says, trying to sound more comforting instead of impatient as he leans down to mouth the back of Kitayama’s neck, tasting the salty sweat and breathing in the remains of Kitayama’s fruity shampoo. This has the desired effect, loosening him enough for Fujigaya to move all three fingers in and out, simulating sex in preparation for what’s next.

“You two take entirely too long,” Kawai gasps, his hold on Kitayama’s hair jerking with each thrust. “Where do you want me to come?”

“On his face,” Fujigaya answers, feeling Kitayama’s approval in the way he rocks back, and Fujigaya sucks right beneath Kitayama’s hairline as Kawai pulls his head back and groans. Kitayama’s voice pierces the air the moment Kawai falls from his mouth, his moans strangled and rushed as Fujigaya pulls out his fingers and grabs that ass with both hands.

He slowly pushes in and they both cry out, Fujigaya’s mouth still latched to Kitayama’s neck despite his urge to stand up and fuck him into the chair. “You are the tightest slut I know,” he gasps.

“You are the slowest fuck I’ve ever had,” Kitayama shoots back, casting narrowed, lazy eyes over his shoulder, but Fujigaya just smiles because his face is decorated in Kawai’s come.

He strains his neck to press his lips to the mess, licking it up as much as he can from this angle, and naturally he ends up back in Kitayama’s mouth, that cyclone of a tongue leaving him mindless as his body starts to move on its own. He swallows Kitayama’s noises until Kitayama tears his mouth away and presses his face into the back of the chair, grabbing onto it with both hands for leverage to press back against Fujigaya’s sharp thrusts that quickly grow in speed.

“Fuck,” Fujigaya groans, and Kitayama gives a grunt of agreement as Fujigaya reluctantly pushes himself up, one palm flat on Kitayama’s back to keep him bent over while the other comes down hard on his ass. It’s his right hand now, striking the same spot he’d hit first and that has to sting, but Kitayama squeezes deliciously tight around him and Fujigaya groans in a way he hasn’t heard from himself before.

“Harder,” Kitayama hisses, hair plastered to his face when he turns around to toss another glare over his shoulder. “Just because you’re a kinky freak on a power trip doesn’t mean you can slack off.”

“Excuse you,” Fujigaya replies, smacking him once more for good measure, his point already made by the way Kitayama’s moan tears from his lungs. “I am pretty sure you like this more than I do.”

“Whatever,” Kitayama says, and Fujigaya grabs his ass with both hands and pounds into him. “Mm, Taisuke, just like that.”

“Like this?” Fujigaya asks, mostly facetiously as he leans down to mouth Kitayama’s ear. “I fucking love your ass.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Kitayama replies, though his sarcasm is overcome by breaths as he tightens even more. “Oh, right there.”

“Here?” This time he’s serious, and Kitayama nods so hard that he almost clocks Fujigaya in the face. “Mitsu, I’m close.”

“Okay.” Kitayama reaches down to take himself in hand, with absolutely no reluctance, leaning back as he starts to jerk himself fast and hard. “Oh, oh fuck.”

Fujigaya just moans at the increasing suffocation around him, making it more difficult to push in and out. He grabs onto Kitayama even tighter, probably adding dark bruises to the pink handprints blooming on that ass, but he’s just about there and everything about Kitayama’s body language screams how much he loves it, pushing back for whatever Fujigaya will give him in those final seconds leading up to orgasm.

What Fujigaya gives him is a final smack, which seems to subsequently result in Kitayama coming over his fingers with a wail. He takes Fujigaya with him, hips thrusting a few more times before he falls still, waves of pleasure crashing over him as he clings to Kitayama for balance, mostly.

“I can’t believe you two are basically still dressed,” Kawai mutters from where he’s lounging on Kitayama’s couch, watching, completely clothed himself except for his open pants.

Fujigaya turns to give him an unimpressed look, but it’s half-hearted as he’s still coming down from his high and he could give a fuck what either of them say right now.

“I really like this chair,” Kitayama says. “I’m glad I didn’t come on it.”

The answer to Fujigaya’s next question comes in the form of Kitayama pulling his shirt over his head and making a face at it, then carelessly tossing it aside as he turns around and stretches out on the chair, sitting in it properly for the first time. Fujigaya doesn’t have the effort to move, so he just pulls himself up by Kitayama’s shoulders and straddles his lap, resting his head on Kitayama’s shoulders as their heartbeats slow down together.

“Aw, you’re cuddling,” Kawai taunts.

“We are not,” Fujigaya snaps at him. “I just don’t wanna move and his fat ass is comfortable.”

“I don’t wanna move either,” Kitayama replies, clearly unbothered by the insult. His voice is laced with desperate gasps for air and it’s the most pleasant he’s ever sounded to Fujigaya’s ears, making Fujigaya cling to him even more as aftershocks rock through his body.

“Whatever, lovebirds.” Kawai groans as he gets up, stretching for a second before rolling his eyes at them. “I’m out. Call me when you’re done being gross.”

Both Fujigaya and Kitayama flip him off in parting, but neither make the effort to even look in his direction. The door closes behind Kawai and the silence is oddly peaceful, only the sounds of their calming breaths and the beating of their hearts. Kitayama doesn’t seem that rushed to have Fujigaya out of his lap, so Fujigaya relaxes and wraps his arms around Kitayama, who lets out a soft moan as he does the same.

“You know you love my fat ass,” Kitayama finally says, one hand lifting to push Fujigaya’s hair out of his face.

Fujigaya returns the favor, his fingers lingering on Kitayama’s flushed cheek. “As much as you love me smacking it.”

It’s Fujigaya who leans in for a kiss, which is instantly reciprocated and deepened, as heated as they can manage with their combined lack of energy. He wouldn’t put it past Kitayama to fall asleep on this very chair, and while it wouldn’t be far to drag him over to the couch, there’s no way Fujigaya’s expending the energy for that.

Riding Kitayama where he sits takes just as much energy, if not more, but it’s worth it to feel Kitayama deep inside him, and Kawai would be proud to hear that they’d managed to claw off each other’s clothes this time. Calling him isn’t quite at the top of Fujigaya’s priorities, though, even after he comes so hard that he doesn’t know which way is up and nearly falls backwards onto the floor.

“Best fucking chair ever,” Kitayama says with a sigh, and Fujigaya agrees with both meanings of the statement.


End file.
